


darling, please take my hand

by reijnerss



Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: At the same time, Fluff and Angst, M/M, these boys dont know how emotions work but they try
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:14:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24024928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reijnerss/pseuds/reijnerss
Summary: Robbe and Sander break quarantine. No they don't. Yes they do.A tennis fic.
Relationships: Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans
Comments: 3
Kudos: 91





	darling, please take my hand

**Author's Note:**

> soooo... i DONT recommend doing ANYTHING that these boys do in this fic as of now!!! pls stay in quarantine queens!!!! stay safe!!!

Sander hadn’t noticed him. He was too busy checking his phone and pacing to turn around and see the boy behind him. The boy who was bouncing giddily on the balls of his feet and holding the back of his hand against his mouth to keep from laughing.

Robbe felt his phone buzz in his pocket and stifled another laugh as he took it out.

From Sander:

will you be here soon??? i’m DYING

Robbe’s mouth began to twitch from holding in his laughter.

To Sander:

…look behind you

Robbe looked up to see Sander stop dead in his tracks and whip his head around. He was smiling as brightly as Robbe had ever seen, his eyes squinting and his teeth showing. 

Robbe’s own laugh was muffled by the sound of his heartbeat in his ears. It was almost as if he were seeing Sander for the first time again, although he probably would have lost it if Sander were wearing the shorts he had on for this game of theirs.

Robbe opened the gate to the court and stepped inside.

“You’re late, IJzermans!” Sander exclaimed, grabbing a ball and throwing it towards Robbe.

Robbe caught the ball against his chest.

“What?” he giggled, still not quite processing the fact that Sander was right in front of him for the first time in what felt like a century.

“ _ What? _ ” Sander mocked, holding out his hand and gesturing for Robbe to throw the ball back.

Robbe rolled his eyes and threw the ball, with the force of a pitcher, back to Sander, who stumbled to catch it.

“Woah! Aggressive!” Sander said, recovering his balance.

“Something tells me you started it…” Robbe replied.

They stared at each other scowling for a moment, before Robbe broke out into a full smile and Sander followed shortly after.

“I miss you,” Robbe quietly said.

“I’m right here.”

“I know… and I miss you.”

Robbe could see Sander’s jaw clenching from across the court and he almost felt bad for saying anything, for making this torture even more unbareable. He hated seeing that pained expression Sander often had.

“I’m ready whenever you are,” Robbe tried to backtrack, spinning his racket in his hand.

Sander blinked at Robbe, his throat tightening as he swallowed. Then a small smile appeared on his face. 

“Okay, yeah! Play ball!” Sander exclaimed.

“...Play ball?”

“Yeah isn’t that what you say before you play sports?” Sander knitted his eyebrows in confusion.

Robbe giggled and shook his head.

“That’s for baseball baby…”

“I love it when you call me that,” Sander smirked, raising one eyebrow.

Robbe took a step forward and spun the racket in his hands again.

“You’re stalling because you know you’re going to lose,” Robbe said.

And the next thing he knew Sander was bouncing the ball and hitting it towards him.

Robbe reacted quickly and hit the ball back to Sander who proceeded to trip over his own feet and hit the ball off to the side of the court. 

They both ran towards the ball and stopped only steps before reaching it. Robbe barely had a moment to think before Sander had taken another step towards the ball. 

Robbe looked down at the ball and then back up at Sander, who was just staring at him, challenging. 

Robbe took a step forward and saw Sander begin to reach down towards the ball. Robbe copied him and soon their hands were only centimeters apart. 

Sander was the first to grab the ball, but Robbe wasted no time in covering Sander’s hand with his own. Sander’s skin was warm and almost felt like a burn on his own. Their fingers interlaced across the ball and they took a sharp breath in unison. 

Robbe looked from their hands to Sander’s face. His mouth was twisted to the side and his eyes looked as if they were pleading. For what? Robbe couldn’t tell, but he knew he wanted the same thing. 

The ball didn’t make it far off the ground before it was dropped. It bounced to the ground, forgotten, as Sander and Robbe’s palms finally connected. Robbe almost flinched at the feeling. Just feeling Sander’s skin against his was almost too much. 

They were still staring into each other’s eyes. 

“Someone could see us,” Robbe whispered. 

Sander shook his head and smiled. His thumb was gently brushing Robbe’s hand, back and forth. 

“Do you really think I care about that?” 

Robbe smiled along with him, but the sound of someone yelling across the court next to them brought them back to reality and they dropped their hands. 

“I need to be with you,” Sander said, it almost sounded like a guilty confession. 

“You are with me.” 

“You know what I mean.” 

“Sander, we can’t.” 

Sander scowled and him and reached for his hand, causing Robbe to take a step back, putting his hand behind his back. 

“Sander, I’m serious.” 

“And you think I’m not?” 

Robbe took another step back just to be safe and Sander took a step forward. 

And Robbe knew. He just knew that if Sander took one more step he would lose his resolve. 

Sander took that step of course and Robbe took a deep breath before stepping forward once more. 

They were sharing the same air. This guilty air between them was all they had. 

“Meet me at Chernobyl, midnight tonight.” 

“Sander…” 

“Please Robbe, midnight tonight. I need to be with you,” Sander pleaded. 

Robbe just nodded and took a few steps back, picking up the ball as he went. 

“So I’ll take that as a yes?” Sander grinned, walking back to his side of the court. 

“It’s a maybe,” Robbe said. 

“A maybe?!” 

“A maybe,” Robbe confirmed, winking. 

Sander picked his racket back up and pointed it at Robbe. 

“I love you!” He yelled, loudly.

The people in the court next to them turned to look and Robbe blushed. 

“Sander!” Robbe exclaimed, embarrassed. 

“What? Do you not want to hear it?”

Robbe rolled his eyes and giggled softly. 

“I love you too.” 


End file.
